


Day 8 - Stalking

by KatieComma



Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Clothes Stealing, M/M, Plot Twist: Stiles Is The Creeper This Time, Stalker!Stiles, Stalking, Stiles is underage, Voyeurism, creeper!Stiles, no actual sex takes place between them, set sometime in season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Stiles starts watching Derek because he wants to have Scott's back and make sure the guy isn't a serial killer or something.But it becomes something very different.
Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950493
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Day 8 - Stalking

**Author's Note:**

> This is WAY out of my wheelhouse guys. So please be kind.
> 
> I opted to try to write something that I wouldn't normally write... that's what these writing challenges are about right? So here we are.
> 
> Be warned: Stiles is a legit stalker in this fic. He breaks into Derek's house and steals worn clothes. None of it is consensual. He doesn't approach or threaten Derek in any way... but he's definitely a stalker.

It started off innocently enough.

Stiles was just protecting Scottie. 

Sure. Totally. That’s what it was.

Stiles kept an eye on Derek and followed him around town to make sure that the guy who was basically Scottie’s shitty werewolf Yoda, was actually not a serial killer or something.

Derek Hale definitely gave off serial killer vibes.

But slowly it turned into something… else.

Slowly it turned into Stiles lingering. Stiles pretending that he was waiting for some “action to go down,” when what he was really waiting for was a private look at Derek’s life. A glimpse at something no one else got to see. Something personal.

He watched Derek’s house, and snuck close to peek through windows. Whenever Derek worked out, which was often, he never wore a shirt. Stiles would stand and watch flexing, sweat-soaked skin tighten and release as Derek did pull ups in doorways and pushups on the dusty floor of the old half-burned down house.

The sight made the saliva gather in Stiles’ mouth, and made his dick hard. It wasn’t just the hot guy thing, though that didn’t hurt. But there was something about watching from outside. Looking in.

He knew it was creepy. He’d read enough reports his dad left lying around about stalkers and peeping toms. But it became almost like an addiction and he couldn’t stop.

It started to get worse. Watching wasn’t enough anymore. Now he would stand outside the house, and see Derek’s shadow cross a window, and he’d slip a hand into his boxers and stroke himself.

For a while that was enough. He’d never finish. Just a few tugs to alleviate the pressure until he got home.

And then he wanted more. The night he pulled himself out into the cold night air and came on one of the trees in front of Derek’s house, he felt a shame so intense he thought he was having a panic attack.

This wasn’t normal. He was the Sheriff’s kid. He knew this wasn’t normal.

But he couldn’t stop. He’d think about it at night alone in his room when he jerked off.

Each time he escalated to something new he told himself it would be the last time. That he was better than that. The first time he snuck into Derek’s house when he was gone. The first time he found the hamper of clothes and sniffed at it. The first time he dug through that hamper to get something laced with sweat that he could press up to his nose. The first time he found a pair of Derek’s dirty boxers and took them home.

He told himself it was a fantasy. He was fantasizing because he could never have Derek. Not really. Derek was a creature beyond having. He was beautiful and dangerous, an untouchable creature of the night.

One night when he was standing in front of Derek’s house after dark, he heard branches breaking and leaves crunching in the forest behind him. Stiles tensed, ready to run for the Jeep, but then a familiar voice spoke.

“He knows,” Scott’s voice came to him from the trees before he stepped out of shadow and into the moonlight. His face was drawn, the disappointment blatant.

“Oh. Hey Scott. Scottie. What’s-What’s up?” Stiles tried to cover his nervousness. But he knew Scott would sense it with his stupid werewolf powers. “What are you doing out here?”

“I think the more important question is what you’re doing here,” Scott said.

“Ok. Well… I didn’t want to tell you because… I thought you’d be… mad at me or whatever,” Stiles nervously let the words fall from his tongue. “But I’ve been keeping an eye on Derek. Just… you know… to keep… an eye… on him.”

“He knows you’re out here,” Scott said. “He’s a werewolf Stiles. He can hear you. And I’m not even going to tell you what it smells like out here. Dude. Gross.”

“I don’t… know…”

“Don’t lie,” Scott begged. “I just thought you should know. It’s been months Stiles. And he’s known you were here this whole time.”

Stiles felt his face go red. He didn't try to say anything else. Stupid werewolves and their lie detecting.

“I just thought you should know,” Scott said.

Stiles nodded, still too mortified to talk. He’d just assumed Scott was too busy with Allison to notice what he was up to. Apparently not the case.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Scott said as he clapped Stiles on the shoulder before he ran off into the woods.

Stiles leaned back against a tree and breathed deep, reconsidering everything he’d been doing. Now that someone knew about it, he felt even more shame and guilt than before. Would Scott tell his dad? Or would he wait to see if Stiles stopped? The thought of that: not doing it anymore, roiled Stiles’ gut. How could he not? It was a craving like he’d never felt before.

And then another thought snuck into Stiles’ brain and made him electric with the thrill it sent down his spine: Derek had known the whole time.

Stiles stood there for another fifteen minutes. The house was dark. Probably time for him to sneak back to his Jeep and leave for the night.

“He’s right,” Derek’s voice was right behind him.

Stiles jumped and turned toward it.

Derek stood in the dark woods in a henley and his way too tight jeans.

“Scott’s right,” Derek said. “I’m not stupid. And you’re not that quiet. Especially not when…” Derek looked pointedly at the tree Stiles had come on a few times. Then his eyes met Stiles’ again. His expression was stone. Was Derek going to gut him for being such a creep?

Bold words surged up in Stiles’ throat the way they always seemed to around Derek. “Why-why didn’t you say anything?” He sputtered out.

Derek moved closer, sneakers crunching on dead leaves, though Stiles hadn’t heard him approach initially. And then they were face to face, Derek close. His expression guarded.

“Because I like it,” Derek said softly. His mouth hung open after the last word as he looked down at Stiles’ lips. “I can hear you out here, your heartbeat like a jackrabbit. I hear the noises you make. The way your breath catches. And I know you’re watching me.”

Stiles’ heart was definitely doing the jackrabbit thing.

“When you…” Derek looked down at the tree again, the one with Stiles’ old dried come crusted in the bark. “I heard you. And I knew it was because of me. I know when you’ve been in my house Stiles. I can smell your scent everywhere. When I come home and smell you in my room. In my hamper. When my underwear go missing. I lay in my bed and jerk off thinking about you.”

Stiles’ body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way, and he’d never been so turned on his life. “Why?” He asked boldly.

Derek smiled a little, this little innocent looking smile with the cute little bunny teeth. “No one’s ever just looked at me without trying to take.”

Stiles gulped. “I-I took your-your underwear,” he stuttered out.

“It’s different,” Derek said. “I just wanted you to know. The reason I’ve let it go on is because I like it. I want it.”

Stiles shuddered with excitement, his skin tingly and covered in goosebumps.

“So you can keep watching if you want,” Derek said. “Sneaking in when I’m not here.” He walked around Stiles, back toward the house. And then he leaned in to speak in Stiles’ ear, hot breath across his skin making him twitch with excitement. “God, it turns me on.”

Derek retreated back to the house, making noise with each footstep that Stiles knew he didn’t have to make if he didn’t want to.

When Stiles finally turned back, the light up in the room Derek used as a bedroom was on. The curtains were open, and Derek stood with his back to the window as he undressed. His shirt was first, tossed aside, baring his perfect back with the swirling tattoo between his shoulder blades. The pants went next, and he bent over to pull them from each foot, which gave Stiles a perfect view of his muscular ass. And then he turned to the open window, and he was hard, cock jutting out and bouncing a little as he moved to close the curtains. And then it was just his silhouette. He turned to the side and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking slowly.

Stiles made his decision, undoing his jeans and pulling himself out. He was so turned on that it was only a few strokes before he came.

The light shut off shortly afterward.

Stiles knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d be back. He was addicted to Derek Hale and there was no way he could give it up.


End file.
